


Fire in his Eyes

by WanderinTsundoku



Category: Food Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-11
Updated: 2020-03-11
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:13:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23101516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WanderinTsundoku/pseuds/WanderinTsundoku
Summary: Peking and Spaghetti discuss Peking's recent investigations of the cults, although along with quacking ducklings the two become distracted.
Relationships: Peking Duck/Spaghetti (Food Fantasy)
Kudos: 10





	Fire in his Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> Short little fic playing around with their relationship.

Lavender eyes glared through the smokey fog which rose from the pipe in Peking Duck’s uncurled hand. The huffing redhead sat across him at the kotatsu table, the heated blanket settled in his lap along with one of the annoying yellow chicks.

“Must you bring along these burdens to the negotiations? They are pushing aside the teacups along with blocking my view to the files.” Spaghetti gestured down to the one duckling laying on its belly, tail up, pecking down with its beak at the page. 

“Surely, you don’t mind the children being around, after all don’t you work alongside the youths as well?” Peking smirked and took a drag of his pipe. Smoke twirled from his nostrils like that of a dragon’s ready to inflame its prey. 

Spaghetti scoffed and carefully picked the duckling up, settling it aside. The duckling perked up and waddled over to the papers again, flopping onto his arm as he skimmed the lines of text. Spaghetti only rolled his eyes as another duckling waddled across the table and fell into his lap. 

“Surely, you’re testing my patience,” Spaghetti glanced upwards towards Peking, “in more ways than one. These reports are inconsistent.”

“Are they now?” Peking only took another drag of his pipe, “well apologies, should I have transcribed them differently for your comprehension?”

“Heh. As If you can even keep a coherent thought. Your mind wanders around like your ducks.” 

Peking smirked and leaned forward on the table, placing his pipe down. “Mr. Spaghetti, if you can not understand those files then you may as well guess what is in my mind.”

Spaghetti paused and whispered, “May I ask?”

“Hm?” Peking watched the red-head carefully.

“Does it quack as well?” He snickered.

Peking chuckled and leaned back, “That… You’ll have to come closer to hear.”

“Well now, I wouldn't want to offend the ducklings by moving, so I shall stay on my side.”

“Reasonable. Say, what do you make of the reports in the second file there?” Peking caved in and shifted around the table to join his ducks and Spaghetti. A single little duckling perked up and waddled onto his lap, nuzzling into his side to nap.

“Hm,” Spaghetti glanced at Peking out of the corner of his eye before refocusing on the referred page, “If I was to comprehend such, I’d say that your cult problems have appeared once again.” He flipped through the maps and obituary articles which were stapled together into organized stacks. Spaghetti observed each example of corruption down a network of recorded evidence. Cult leaders were dying one by one within weeks of the other, and were replaced with members of the same family who were radicalized with extreme loyalty. Small governments were being overtaken as their media and newspapers paralleled feeding towards the cult’s plot. 

Peking picked up a different folder, “Ah, trouble seems to love following me around and stalking at my window.” 

“And you willingly leave the blinds open for those peering eyes.” Spaghetti scoffed, flipping through more documents that showcased the man’s carelessness. Recorded sightings and confirmed death counts of Peking Duck cluttered the charts and datasheets for each town. Investigations and copies of warrants for Peking’s arrest were in their own binder. 

Nonetheless, Peking didn’t take offense, “I have no secrets to hide, I record each event publically.” He had a sense of pride, seemingly edging into the redhead's own. From the noble’s lowered eyebrow he knew that his tone had struck a nerve.

“In a book that your assistant guards closely.” He quickly murmured, “how public is it when she is safeguarding it for only your eyes.”

“Well it at least leaves her mind free, unlike passing it along as word of mouth. Perhaps your assistant would be more relaxed if you were truly a nobleman like I am more behaved to be.” Peking could count the veins popping on Spaghetti’s forehead. 

“Tsk. An assistant she is not.” Spaghetti carefully scooted aside another duckling attempting to nestle next to him. If ducklings could frown, it would have. But since the duckling couldn’t frown, it poked Spaghetti’s forearm instead and reclaimed its spot.

“Nor is Yuixyang.” Peking smirked and took another huff of his pipe, “Although, she is not one who knows what lives in my... void.”

“Nor does my partner.” The ducklings all tackled into Spaghetti as he helplessly tried to keep them calm, “Only a like mind would dare to understand the hoard of disgust I carry with me. What I do tell her, I keep encased in code. Words can not describe the sins of this world.”

“We seem to… Understand this together don’t we?” Peking patted a duckling’s head, “the sins of humans. The sins we commit, to restore justice. No, I know exactly how twisted you are in there.”

“Just what are you getting at?” He sneered as Peking Duck drew closer.

“Need I speak?” Peking’s breath blew like a soft breeze against his lips. The food soul leaned towards Spaghetti’s glaring face which grew a tad bit softer as Peking cupped his cheek, “Need I explain to you, what we’re both thinking?”

“...No.” Spaghetti looked into the flames of Peking’s irises, an unknown flame blazed tame inside. The fire grew closer until he closed his eyelids, shielding from the intense stare as that heat then shifted down on his lips. Like racing across hot coals, he felt no heat as Peking retreated from his space. When he opened his eyes the room appeared warmer as if his lavender irises had turned a hue of crimson from the fires inside the other. No, Peking Duck nor Spaghetti needed to say another word. 


End file.
